


Fortune Cookie

by thewriterpoe



Category: SHINee
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 11:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3445817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterpoe/pseuds/thewriterpoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Because I actually moaned at one point during the video.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Fortune Cookie

**Author's Note:**

> Because I actually moaned at one point during the video.

She tried not to panic when she saw who was standing outside her door from the intercom. There’s no way he could have known that she had just been masturbating to his picture.

“Errm, Hello?” she said.

The intercom cracked and he said that he wanted to see her about the footage she had shot for his music video.

“Was there a problem?”

“Can I come and talk? It’s a bit awkward for me out here.”

 _Duh, k-pop star at your front door._ “Oh yes, of course. I’m sorry.”

She told him her apartment number and hit the buzzer to open the main door for him. She lived on the eighth floor so she had a couple of minutes to tidy up before he was at her door.

When she let him in, she instantly regretted not putting on something nicer. He was looking editorial in a pair of skinny black slacks and a lavender cardigan. She was looking homeless in grungy sweatpants and t-shirt. At least her bed head was all the rage these days.

“So you wanted to see the stuff I shot for your music video,” she said, breaking the awkwardness of having an idol in her apartment. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” he said quickly. “Not the way you’re thinking. The studio showed me the edited version and I just wanted to see the unedited one.”

She had a puzzled look on her face but shrugged anyway. She offered him her office chair at her desk.

“Jasmine,” he commented off hand.

She smiled awkwardly; she had just sprayed the apartment _and herself_ with a Jasmine scented aerosol.

The computer started playback of the fifteen minute video of him singing with the music playback. She was tense the whole time: her fists clenched, her teeth pinching her lower lip.  She was painfully aware that he could hear her in the video playback; the sharp inhalations, the breathy exhalations, and the … Oh God!

“Stop. Play that last part again.”

_Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!_

She returned the video five seconds back in time.

There it was again; louder if only because they were listening for it.

“There it is. That sound. It’s not in the other footage. What was that?” he asked – a _s if he didn’t know._ “Was that … a moan?”

She thought about denying it but he was listening to the sound again. She colored deeply, deep splotches of red rising from her chest to her cheeks. She was also holding her breath.

He looked up at her, eyes dancing with mischief, but seeing her apprehension was suddenly serious. “I’m sorry,” he said looking down. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

She still wasn’t saying anything and he started to panic. He fixed her with a variation of the gaze that had induced the first moan. She made a small noise in her throat.

“You can’t look at me like that,” she exhaled, stepping away from him.

He smiled, relieved that she was talking again. “Why?”

“Because,” she answered through clenched teeth.

“It’s a cute noise,” he said. She froze. “Can I hear it?”

Her eyes filled her face as her mind raced with thoughts of the various ways that noise could be produced. Surely he wasn’t suggesting…

He wasn’t suggesting anything. He was fixing her the panty-dropping gaze; the one that turns from half amusement, half disinterest to soul penetrating.

 _Fuck!_ But the word comes out as a high, climax worthy moan.


End file.
